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Henry George
by
The third peculiar thing about this hotel was that it had a library of a thousand volumes.
It was the only public library in San Francisco at that time, and it was the books that led Henry George to spend twice as much for board as he otherwise would have done.
While Henry George was at the “What Cheer House,” an English traveler added a volume to the little library, Buckle’s “History of Civilization.” Woodward tried to read the book, but failing to become interested in it, between serving the soup and the fish, handed it to a waiter saying, “Here, give it to that red-headed printer; he can get something out of it if anybody can.” Henry George took the book to his room, and that night sat reading it until two o’clock in the morning. That statement of Buckle’s, “Adam Smith’s ‘Wealth of Nations’ has influenced civilization more profoundly than any other book ever written, save none,” caught the young printer’s attention.
The next day he looked in the library for the “Wealth of Nations,” and sure enough, it was there! He began to read. He read and reread. And whether Buckle’s statement is correct or not, this holds: Adam Smith’s “Wealth of Nations” influenced Henry George more profoundly than any other book he had ever read.
Henry George was not yet immune from the gold-fever microbe, and several times was lured away into the mountains, “grubstaking” a man with hope plus and secrets as to gold-bearing quartz that would paralyze the world.
When twenty-one we find our young man one of six printers who bought out the “Evening Journal.” Henry George was foreman of the composing- room, but took a hand anywhere and everywhere. A curious comment on the business acumen of the “Journal” men lies in their agreement that all should have an equal voice in the policy of the paper. Hence we infer that all were equally ignorant of the stern fact that in business nothing succeeds but one-man power. So the “Journal” went drifting on the rocks in financial foggy weather and the hungry waves devoured her.
When Fate desires a great success she sends her chosen one failure. Henry George at twenty-two was ragged, in debt–and also in love. The “What Cheer House” was all right for a man getting good wages, but when you go into business for yourself it is different, and George found board with a private family.
The lady in the case was Miss Fox, ward and niece of the landlord with whom the impecunious printer boarded.
Annie Fox and our printer read Dana’s “Household Book of Poetry,” with heads close together.
The inevitable happened–they decided to pool their poverty in the interests of progress. To ask the landlord for his blessing seemed out of the question, in view of the fact that the printer was two weeks behind in his board. The girl had the proverbial clothes on her back.
Matthew McClosky, the uncle, was a good deal of a man. He showed his shrewdness and appreciation of the present order by buying a large tract of land near the city, and grew rich on the unearned increment. Had his niece and the printer confided in him they might have shared in his prosperity, in which case “Progress and Poverty” would never have been written.
It was the memorable year of Eighteen Hundred Sixty-one. The heart of Henry George was with the Union–he had decided to enlist. He told the girl so behind the kitchen-door. Her answer was a flood of tears, and a call to arms. The result was that the next night the couple stole out, and made their way to a Methodist parsonage, where they were married.
Henry George was nominally a member of the Methodist Church, but the creed of Thomas Paine was more to his liking–“The world is my country; mankind are my friends; to do good is my religion.” The young lady was a Catholic, and so the preacher compromised by reading the Episcopal service. The only witnesses were the minister’s wife and Henry George’s chum, Isaac Trump. “I didn’t catch your friend’s name,” said the minister in filling out the marriage-certificate.